


The Assistant

by lallyloo



Category: Eagle of the Ninth Series - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallyloo/pseuds/lallyloo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esca is a highly capable personal assistant. After a company takeover, Esca is kept on as Marcus Aquila's new P.A. Esca hears rumors about Marcus, including one much-gossiped-about rumor that he has a history of flings with his personal assistants, and Esca is determined he'll never fall for Marcus's charm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to livejournal in November 2011.

“I heard he's gorgeous. Could've been a model.”

“I heard he was one.”

“Are you serious?”

“That's what I heard.”

“Well, I heard he sleeps with all of his assistants.”

“Who told you that?”

“I don't remember, but someone said it.”

“An ex-model who sleeps with his employees? Could be fun.”

“Esca, what've you heard?”

 

He'd been trying to avoid the crowd at the water cooler. Esca didn't know much about his new boss, and he'd rather not have his name attached to any of the rumors flying around, lest this new Aquila guy finds out and ships Esca out with the rest of the upper-levels who lost their jobs during the takeover.

“Haven't heard anything,” Esca replies, cutting around the crowd.

“I don't buy that for a second.”

Esca ignores the comment and heads to his desk. “He'll be here any minute,” he calls behind him, “I suggest you guys not be standing around when he arrives.”

The crowd disperses as everyone heads back to their desks and attempts to look busy.

Esca shoves a stack of papers in a folder and sticks it under his arm, and grabs two brand new pens from his desk drawer before heading into the conference room. He pulls the blinds, bathing the room in light, and sets everything at the head of the table. He wipes off the dry-erase wall, and sets red, black and blue markers on the table – lest the new boss is picky about color. 

When the alarm goes off on his phone, reminding him it's two minutes before Mister Aquila's arrival, Esca heads to the elevator doors and waits.

When the doors open one minute early –a small detail Esca appreciates– a tall, well-built man in a business suit steps out.

“Mister Aquila?” Esca asks, hating the hesitancy in his voice because he hadn't expected his new boss to be quite so young.

“Yes,” the man replies, glancing Esca's way, and Esca steps forward with his hand outstretched.

“Esca MacCunoval, sir, I'm your new assistant.”

“Ah, yes,” the man shakes his hand, and Esca hates the little voice in his head that notices the size of his new boss's hand, and somewhere in the back of his mind Esca acknowledges that the rumor mill might have a grain of truth to it, because the man is undeniably attractive.

“I told them I didn't need an assistant,” his new boss is saying, and Esca snaps out of his daze. “But since you're here you can brief me before our meeting.”

Oh. So it's going to be like that.

Esca forces a smile. “Yes, sir, of course.”

“And don't call me sir, I want to break that trend before it starts.”

“Certainly,” Esca replies, “how should I address you?”

“Marcus, if you'd like, since we'll be working one-on-one” he says, “but call me Mister Aquila around the other employees.”

“Certainly Mister Aquila.”

“Are there other employees around right now?” Marcus asks, and it's obnoxious but he's smiling, and Esca suddenly wants to punch that smirky smile off his face.

“No,” Esca replies through clenched teeth. “Shall I show you to the conference room, Marcus?”

“That'd be great, Essa.”

Fantastic.

“It's Esca.”

“Right.”

*

“Obviously everyone is aware of the acquisition,” Esca is saying, reviewing the quarterly reports as his new boss wanders around the conference room. “I think it'd be best to start off the meeting by setting their minds at ease. Let them know their jobs are still here.”

“I'm not looking to placate them,” Marcus replies, picking up the colored markers. “If they show me they're worth keeping then they'll get to stay.”

“Of course, I just think they'd be more receptive to new ideas if they know they'll be here to help implement them.”

Marcus shrugs and tosses the red and black markers aside. “I think they should be receptive to new ideas because it's their job.”

“Right,” Esca replies carefully, “but they're still people. Set them at ease and make sure they feel secure in their positions, and then hit them with any changes you want to make.”

Marcus gives him a noncommittal nod and watches as Esca lines the reports on the table in order of importance.

“Anything else you require before I call them in?” Esca asks, turning to glance at him.

“Coffee,” Marcus replies.

Oh.

Esca tries to wipe the surprise from his face. “I'm sorry?”

“Coffee, two sugars.”

“I don't--” Esca begins, because he doesn't get coffee, but Marcus is already leaning over to skim the reports and Esca knows he needs to choose his battles wisely. “Of course. Anything else?”

Marcus turns back to him again. “Do I look alright?”

“I--” Esca pauses again, because he wasn't expecting that one – and the man looks gorgeous.

Esca eyes Marcus for a second, glancing up at him, and notices his tie is twisted on the left side causing his collar to bulge. He should probably reach out and straighten it, and if Marcus hadn't been acting like an ass for the last fifteen minutes he likely would have.

“You look fine,” Esca says, feeling a tiny sense of satisfaction – small victories and all that. “I'll call them in.”

*

“Well, that was a spectacular failure.”

Esca tries to resist saying 'I told you so' as he glances up from his papers to watch Marcus pace back and forth in front of the white board. “It definitely could've been better,” he says instead.

“Half of them seemed distracted, the other half seemed suspicious of everything I said.”

Told you so.

“Maybe it would've been better to set their minds at ease first.”

“That's not how I do things.” Marcus rubs his hand over the back of his neck in frustration, and when Marcus's fingers absentmindedly skim over his collar and catch on the bulge of the twisted necktie, Esca quickly glances back to his papers.

“Shit,” he hears Marcus mutter. Esca chances a quick glance back and watches as Marcus straightens out the tie and splays his hand over his collar, forcing it to lay flat. He looks frustrated and a little awkward, and for a moment Esca feels a bit guilty.

“Things will improve,” he says, offering the first vague words of encouragement that come mind. “They'll come around. I mean, they don't really have a choice.”

“True,” Marcus mutters, “I was just hoping things would run smoothly from the start.”

Hmm. Maybe he's not a complete ass.

Esca is just beginning to ponder the idea when Marcus speaks again.

“Before I forget, the coffee was too sweet.”

Ass.

“Apologies,” Esca says, not really meaning it, as he stands and tucks his papers under his arm, “I'm not exactly skilled in coffee preparation.”

He considers keeping the next statement to himself, but if Marcus can put a stop to the 'sir' trend before it starts Esca might as well nip the coffee trend in the bud.

“I wasn't required to make coffee for my previous boss.”

“It's fine,” Marcus says – his pacing has stopped, and he's staring up at his notes on the board. Esca is just about to head for the door when Marcus speaks again.

“Just use less sugar next time.”

Esca stares at the back of Marcus's head for a moment, blinking. “Less than two sugars?”

“No,” Marcus replies, not turning to look at him, “two sugars. But less next time.”

He can't be serious.

“I'll use a smaller spoon,” Esca says, feeling his jaw tighten, and he leaves without another word.

*

It takes two weeks for Marcus to stop complaining about his coffee, and three weeks before he compliments Esca on it. They're alone in the conference room, reviewing Esca's list of possible re-hires, when Marcus takes a sip of his coffee and vaguely says, “like that.”

Esca glances at the sheet in his hand. “Like what?”

“Perfect amount of sugar.”

That's the extent of it, and Esca glances at Marcus's mug and then up at his boss. Marcus doesn't meet his gaze, and continues reviewing the papers in front of him.

Damn.

Esca hadn't really been trying to get the perfect amount of sugar, he'd just been tossing odd amounts in each morning figuring at some point he'd hit the perfect sugar to coffee ratio – and if he never hit it, he didn't really care. Now apparently he'd done so, and he'd have to try to remember exactly how much he'd put in that morning.

Great.

“Have you ever considered that you might drink too much coffee?” It's out of Esca's mouth before he can stop it.

“No,” Marcus says, glancing up from his papers and giving Esca a look of amusement mixed with mild disdain. “Have you ever considered that you don't drink enough?”

It's a ridiculous comeback, and Esca rolls his eyes. “White sugar is horrible for you.”

“So have it without,” Marcus says, turning back to his work.

“Too much caffeine.”

“Decaf--” Marcus begins before giving his head a quick shake. “Why are we having this conversation?”

“I don't know,” Esca replies, though he does know – he was looking for a way out of having to make Marcus's stupid 'two sugars but not two sugars' coffee every single morning.

It was worth a shot.

 

Marcus's rejection pile is growing, and Esca yanks the most recent paper from the top. “This should go in the maybes.”

“I've already rejected it.” Marcus takes the paper and sets it back on his pile.

“You can't just reject Liathan outright,” Esca says, removing the paper from the pile a second time. “You need to read what he's done within this company.”

Marcus takes the paper again and sets it further down the table, out of Esca's reach. “I've read it, I wasn't impressed.”

“Then I suggest you read it again.”

Marcus glares at him. “Are you in charge here, or am I?”

Oh for fuck sake.

“You are,” Esca replies with a sigh, “but that doesn't automatically mean you know what's best for the company.”

“It does mean that, actually.” Marcus leans forward and gathers the stacks of paper together, laying them criss-crossed over each other. “You might not like my approach, but that doesn't mean it's wrong.”

“I apologize,” Esca seethes, “I was under the impression I was here because you wanted my input.”

“I'd like your input,” Marcus replies, standing, “ but that doesn't mean your opinion comes before mine.”

Ah.

“Right. Well, my opinion right now is that you should finish the re-hires on your own.”

“Esca--”

“Marcus, I know these people, I know how they work,” Esca stands and heads for the door. “But you're the boss, so clearly you know better than I do. I'll just get you more coffee.”

“Esca.”

“Two sugars, yeah?”

He leaves Marcus alone in the conference room, and Marcus spends the rest of the afternoon there, hunched over his stack of papers.

Esca doesn't bring him more coffee.

 

It's almost five o'clock, and Esca is just closing up his laptop when Marcus finally returns to his office. He says nothing, simply hands Esca a piece of paper with four names on it. The first three are Marcus's choices. The fourth is Liathan.

It's a small victory, but Esca takes it.

The next morning he tosses two spoonfuls of sugar in Marcus's coffee and sets it on his desk. Esca has no recollection of how much he added to the 'perfect' cup the previous morning, and if it's wrong, Marcus doesn't let on.

*

It takes three months for the phone calls to start.

Esca still makes Marcus's coffee every morning, and leaves it waiting on his desk, and Marcus hasn't said another word about too much or too little sugar. Other than that, if Marcus is treading carefully around Esca it isn't showing. Esca still briefs him before each meeting, and he asks for Esca's advice, but more often than not Marcus goes with his gut and does things his own way. The end result doesn't always work out in Marcus's favor, but he seems too stubborn to listen to the majority of Esca's suggestions.

Esca's growing accustomed to it. New boss, new style. 

But the phone calls are another matter.

 

The first one happens on a Tuesday night. Esca is polite at first, briefly wondering if there's an emergency when he hears his boss's voice on the other end of the line, but Marcus gets straight to business and doesn't even bother with pleasantries.

“Do you know where the Carter file is?”

Esca seethes. The Carter file is where the Carter file has been for the last two years.

“I assume it's in under the letter C. After Canton and before Century.”

He can hear the filing cabinet swing open and Marcus rustling around, likely messing up the files Esca has painstakingly organized. “Found it.”

“Was it under C?”

“Yeah,” There's a clang in the background as Marcus slams the filing cabinet shut. “Sorry to bother you at home.”

“It's fine,” Esca says.

It's not fine. His own time is his own time, and he'd rather not have his boss bothering him when he's not on business hours.

“Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You as well.”

It's 9:41pm, Esca knows because he glances at the clock in annoyance as he hangs up.

 

There's another call on Thursday. Esca is mildly annoyed, but he quickly answers Marcus's question and lets him go.

He says nothing about it at work, hoping it's a temporary thing.

 

The real irritation doesn't begin until Friday, when he's out with friends, and Marcus calls his mobile to ask for details on a particular client. Details that no one would need at 10:22 on a Friday night.

Esca can't hold back his displeasure as he lists specifics off the top of his head. Years under them, profit margins, piles of data that can't possibly be important in that moment. Esca knows the client –he knows all of them– and there's nothing going on with them that can't wait until Monday morning to address. His friends are glancing at him in amusement as he rhymes off information between sips of his beer.

Marcus thanks him and hangs up, and it's barely twenty minutes before Esca's phone is ringing again. Furious, Esca hits ignore and sets his calls to go straight to voicemail.

He ignores Marcus's messages until Sunday afternoon when he sends Marcus a detailed email with all of the information he requested.

 

Esca is still silently fuming on Monday morning when he dumps sugar in Marcus's coffee without even attempting to measure it, and slams the mug on his desk.

He's at his own desk organizing reports when Marcus finally arrives. They nod politely at each other, and Esca watches out of the corner of his eye as Marcus takes a seat and reaches for his coffee. He takes a sip and makes a soft sound of disgust, barely noticeable if Esca hadn't been listening for it, and sets the coffee down without saying a word.

There's a long pause as Marcus shuffles through the papers Esca left on his desk, and when Marcus finally speaks it's the topic Esca was hoping they'd discuss.

“I wanted to go over some of the information in your email.”

Esca didn't realize how on edge he'd been until Marcus spoke, and he turns in his chair to meet Marcus's gaze. Turns out Marcus isn't even looking at him, but Esca responds anyway.

“Before we get to that, I was hoping to make a request.”

Marcus finally glances at him. “What kind of request?”

“I'd like to ask that you not call me at home.” Marcus's neutral expression doesn't falter, so Esca continues. “If it's an emergency, or an occasional call, that's fine. But my free time is my free time, especially on weekends, and I'd rather not get into the habit of taking calls after hours.”

Marcus watches him for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning back to his papers. He considers them for a second before speaking again.

“And what if I have an important question that can't wait until the next work day?”

Important. Right.

“Just email me, and I'll respond as soon as possible.”

Marcus glances at him again and Esca sets his jaw and stares right back. He's not giving in on this, and Marcus seems aware of it as he takes another deep breath and nods.

“Fine,” he says, dismissively, “I have a request too, then.”

Esca can feel his defenses rise. “Yes?”

“Can you dump this coffee and bring me a new one?”

“I--” Esca stammers, because he hadn't been expecting that, despite the sound of disgust he'd heard a moment earlier. “Of course.”

“Great. Then we'll discuss the questions I have about your email.”

Esca grabs Marcus's mug and heads for the staff lounge. It's a compromise he doesn't mind making if it'll stop Marcus's phone calls.

 

He receives an email on Tuesday night, and another on Wednesday. Esca replies to each one quickly and doesn't hear from Marcus again.

There's nothing more until Saturday when an email from Marcus is waiting for Esca when he wakes up. He replies immediately, and by the time he reads through the rest of the messages in his inbox there's another email from Marcus. Esca squints at it, considering, and closes the window.

Best not to let Marcus know he's near his laptop.

He lets Marcus wait, and heads out with his bike.

 

When Esca returns there are eleven new emails, all marked **From the desk of Marcus Aquila**.

Damn it.

Esca skims through them quickly and replies to the most recent one.

_Just call me._

It only takes a moment for Marcus to send an email in reply.

_You said not to._

Oh for fuck sake.

Esca sends off another reply.

_CALL ME._

 

It takes less than a minute for his phone to ring.

“Doesn't this go against your request?” Marcus asks before Esca is able to say hello.

“Maybe. But it's probably easier this way.”

“Yeah,” Marcus replies, and it doesn't sound as smug as it could.

“So where did you want to start?”

“Um..” Marcus lets out a frustrated breath, and Esca can hear papers rustling in the background. “Are you near your computer?”

“It's right in front of me.””

“Well, check the first email I sent and we'll go from there.”

 

It doesn't take them long to get through Marcus's emails. They tackle each one separately, with Esca rereading it to Marcus and then running into the kitchen to make himself lunch while he rhymes off facts and figures into the phone. He moves back and forth between the kitchen and his computer until Marcus seems satisfied with the answers he's received.

“Are you cooking?” Marcus finally asks.

“Yeah, making myself a late lunch.”

“What're you making?”

Esca pauses. It almost sounds like Marcus wants to have a conversation.

“Bacon butty,” Esca says carefully, and he's not sure why he sounds suspicious.

“What's that?”

Esca laughs. “You can't be serious.”

“I am. What is it?”

“It's basically a bacon sandwich, but better than that.”

“Better how?”

“Just better,” Esca says. “You'd have to try one to understand.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

There's a moment of awkward silence, before Esca changes the subject. “So what're you doing in the office on a Saturday?”

“I have a lot of work to catch up on,” Marcus begins, and Esca just murmurs in agreement. He's not entirely sure why Marcus suddenly has a pile of work to do, when he hadn't worked overtime during the three months prior, but he keeps quiet.

“And I don't really know anyone here yet, so I might as well keep busy at the office.”

Oh.

It takes Esca by surprise. He figured Marcus spent his free time hanging out with rich business friends and dating beautiful women. Or something. He really hadn't given much thought to Marcus's private life, but the assumption was there.

Esca makes light of it. “Still, you'd rather be at the office than home on a Saturday?”

“Yeah.” Marcus seems distracted, and Esca can hear what sounds like change being put into a vending machine, and he assumes Marcus in in the staff lounge. “I'm staying with my uncle until my condo is finished, and Saturdays mean lawn bowling and poker night.”

“Sounds fun.”

Marcus laughs, and Esca's pretty sure it's the first time he's heard the sound. “Yeah, a bunch of old men in visors smoking cigars and drinking expensive whiskey. My kind of party.”

“And your office party for one is better?” Esca means it as a joke, but it's still his boss he's talking to, and he cringes after it slips out of his mouth.

To his relief, Marcus laughs again. “Good point. But you can't judge, being home on a Saturday with your bacon sandwich.”

“Ah, but I'm going out tonight,” Esca begins, “so I'm not as--”

He stops, realizing he's about to insult his boss. Even jokingly, it's probably not a good idea.

If Marcus catches the unspoken insult he doesn't acknowledge it. “Where are you going?”

Esca names the club, and there's an awkward pause when Esca doesn't extend an invitation. He almost feels bad, because they're relatively close in age, and maybe in another life they could've been friends. But there's no way Esca's inviting his ass of a boss out to a club, regardless of how friendly Marcus is suddenly being.

The conversation is fading, and Esca wants to ask Marcus not to call on Sunday. He knows he'll be hungover, but he also knows it's unprofessional to mention it. Maybe Marcus realizes, because suddenly he's telling Esca that he won't be in the office on Sunday, so Esca's free from him until Monday.

“See you Monday, then,” Esca says, and Marcus bids him a polite goodbye.

*

 _“Did you reorganize the Morse file?”_

_“I did. Are you missing something?”_

_“Just looking for their numbers from 2009.”_

_“Everything prior to 2010 is available digitally, but if you're looking for a hard copy I'd rather you wait until tomorrow and I'll dig it out for you.”_

_“Is it in the filing cabinet?”_

_“Yes..”_

_“Are you going to be angry if I look for it?”_

_“I'm going to be angry if you mess up my filing system again. Can this not wait until tomorrow?”_

_“Okay, okay,” Marcus says, and he sounds more amused than offended. “It can wait.”_

 

Neither one really mentions the phone conversations at work.

The only noticeable change in their daily routine is Esca begins greeting Marcus with a “good morning” when Marcus enters the office instead of their usual polite nod. Esca's coffee is still awful, and Marcus still disregards most of Esca's advice, but they've reached some sort of understanding and it works for them. The phone calls don't stop, but they only average two per week and Marcus seems to know to keep them brief. Esca doesn't exactly look forward to the calls, but he finds himself expecting them and noticing when Marcus doesn't call.

And Marcus never calls on weekends.

Esca feels both relieved and guilty about it. Relieved because his boss doesn't pester him on weekends, but mildly guilty because of the awkward club conversation and the fact that he didn't extend an invitation to Marcus. They're not going to socialize outside of work, Esca drew that line and Marcus seems to know enough not to cross it.

*

 _“Bacon sandwiches again?”_

_“Nah, I grabbed dinner on my way back.”_

_Marcus gives a noncommittal hum as a response, and Esca figures Marcus likely wants to ask where he was, so he offers the next bit without prompting._

_“I was riding in the park.”_

_“Oh yeah?”_

_He responds with a noncommittal hum of his own, and Marcus laughs. “Corporate next week. Think we're ready?”_

_“Visits from corporate are never a problem. Should be fine.”_

_“Good. See you tomorrow.”_

_“As always.”_

 

The visit from corporate has been weighing on Esca's mind for weeks, but there's no way he's telling Marcus. It happens every six months, but it's the first proper assessment since the takeover and, with all the familiar corporate bigwigs gone and new ones taking their place, Esca can't help but feel worried. He doesn't know them, and they don't know him, and he's not always skilled at biting his tongue. Their figures are fine, and Marcus is suited for the position he's in, but there's still a nagging paranoia that they'll question something and catch Esca off guard. Hell, maybe they'll decide he's dispensable and he'll be out of a job.

*

Esca manages to mask his nervousness, and it helps that Marcus seems so at ease. He knows a few of them, and he's on his best “I'm the boss” behavior from the moment they step off the elevator. Marcus is smiling, and he's charming, and it's the first time Esca's seen that side of him. It takes him back to that first day, when rumors were swirling about the gorgeous ex-model of a boss who charmed all of his assistants into his bed.

Esca laughs inwardly, trying to imagine anyone being charmed by “two sugars, but not two sugars” or Marcus's tendency to destroy any sort of order his assistants might bring to the office. He did a number on the filing cabinets one Saturday, being too stubborn to call or email Esca and taking it upon himself to find the information he was seeking. He failed, and it took Esca two afternoons to get everything back in order.

And yet, here's Marcus smiling and laughing and shaking hands, greeting people and making introductions, and seeming to charm the hell out of everyone. It's unexpected. Esca imagined he'd be the one making introductions, with Marcus standing sullenly beside him and glaring while adjusting his collar.

*

Day two consists of meetings in the morning and then lunch with the corporate bigwigs. Esca booked the restaurant months in advance, and everything goes off without a hitch. He's just beginning to feel comfortable, and content that his job is secure, when the dinner conversation takes a turn.

“So tell me, Esca, how did you manage to avoid being sacked?”

Damn it.

It's Placidus, the man Esca had deemed 'the smug one' from the moment they were introduced and he'd barely given Esca a second glance. Apparently, now that he's got the attention of everyone at the table, he wants to have a conversation.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Esca replies, trying to keep it light.

“Everyone above you was cut,” Placidus continues, taking another bite of his food. “I can't help but wonder why you remained.”

The table has fallen quiet.

“I can only assume my reputation preceded me,” Esca says calmly. “I find that's often the case in business, wouldn't you agree?”

“I'd certainly agree with that,” Placidus smiles, “though I find it hard to believe an assistant would carry much of a reputation, good or bad, wouldn't you say? I feel they usually just disappear into the background.”

What the hell.

“And I feel they're often the silent element that holds the office together and keeps it running smoothly,” Esca replies through clenched teeth. He's about to continue when he glances down the table and catches Marcus watching him. Marcus gives him a quick shake of the head, as if he's trying to convey to him that the argument is pointless, and Esca bites his tongue. “Obviously our experiences and opinions vary.”

“Obviously.”

Esca doesn't reply. Marcus is his boss, and if his boss wants him to stop arguing with the smug jerk from corporate he'll stop arguing with the smug jerk from corporate.

Placidus considers him for a moment, as if he's waiting for a reply, and then continues, “maybe you were overlooked--”

“Esca came highly recommended,” Marcus interrupts, glancing down the table in Placidus's direction. “It was very clear he was an employee worth keeping.” Their eyes meet and Placidus doesn't continue. “Now,” Marcus says, turning his attention to the rest of the table, “anyone for dessert?”

Huh. Impressive.

*

The afternoon presentation goes well and Esca leaves Marcus schmoozing in the conference room while he escapes to his desk for a breather. He's about to shut down his laptop when he spots Cottia, whom he deemed 'the friendly one', approaching his desk.

“It was nice to meet you, Esca,” she says, reaching to shake Esca's hand again. “Just wanted to say goodbye in case I don't get a chance tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, yes, it was great to meet you.” Esca returns the handshake.

“Marcus tells me you're an invaluable member of his team.”

“Oh,” Esca says, taken by surprise. “That's.. good to hear.”

“I imagine it would be. If I know Marcus, he hasn't actually told _you_ that, has he?”

“Well, no, not directly.”

“I'm not surprised,” Cottia laughs, “He hasn't changed a bit.”

“You've worked with Marcus before, then?”

She nods, “I was his assistant a few years ago.”

Oh. OH.

Esca doesn't ask. It's not his business.

Cottia doesn't seem bothered by his silence, and if she knows about the rumors she doesn't acknowledge them.“So how are things now that Marcus is here?”

“Oh,” Esca says, carefully, “fine.”

Cottia grins knowingly and then lowers her voices as she continues, “does he make you get his coffee?”

“Yeah, two sugars?”

“Mm hmm. Has he pulled that 'too sweet' thing yet?”

“Yes!” Esca nearly shouts before he catches himself. “What is that about?”

“I don't know!” Cottia laughs quietly, “I've never understood that one.”

The laughter sets Esca at ease, and their conversation grows more relaxed. Cottia seems fond of Marcus and, if Esca didn't know any better, it seems as if she's set on making Esca fond of Marcus as well.

“He's a good guy,” she says, keeping her voice low. “He can come across as a jackass, but he's not really like that.”

“I don't know,” Esca replies, his voice low as well, “I see glimpses of it, and then he falls back into ass territory.”

Cottia laughs again. “It'll take awhile, but trust me, it's there.”

“I'll keep waiting then.”

“Does he still dress awkwardly?”

“He dresses really well, actually,” Esca laughs, “but he always seems to get his tie twisted under his collar, before every single meeting, without fail.”

She grins. “That's Marcus.”

 

Their conversation is cut short when Marcus arrives. He looks very sure of himself, striding into the office and telling Cottia the group is waiting to hear her stats on the west coast branch. There's a dinner meeting that evening, and Marcus had already informed Esca he wouldn't be required to attend. Esca had been appreciative at the time, but now he feels a bit disappointed that he won't be able to continue his conversation with Cottia.

“I was just having an enlightening conversation with Esca,” she says, grinning at Marcus.

“I can only imagine,” Marcus replies, and he's smiling back and Esca can't help but wonder where the hell his boss went and who this new guy is.

They're about to head out the door when Marcus turns back to Esca. “Hey, listen, sorry about Placidus. Don't let him get to you.”

“It's fine,” Esca replies, “I'd already forgotten.”

“Good,” Marcus says, watching him for a moment. “See you tomorrow?”

“As always. Enjoy your meeting.”

 

Esca watches as they leave. The rest of the employees are gone, and Marcus takes the opportunity to slip his arm around Cottia's waist. He can hear her laughter echo up the hallway as she pushes his arm away, and Esca watches as they elbow each other playfully.

Hmm.

 

It's Tuesday, which is typically a Marcus phone call night. Esca stays up until midnight, but Marcus doesn't call.

There's a pang in his gut, and Esca convinces himself it's not jealousy.

Must be something he ate.

Damn it.

*

Two weeks pass without a call from Marcus. Esca knows he should feel relieved that his boss has eased off, but a small part of him misses the calls. Marcus is different on the phone. Friendlier. More laid back.

Esca keeps thinking back to the moment Marcus put Placidus in his place, replaying it in his mind. It's difficult to equate his Marcus with the Marcus of corporate week. Corporate Week Marcus is the sort of boss Esca can respect. One who stands up for his employees and then charms the pants off everyone. Not the Marcus he's used to – the stubborn boss with the twisted tie and the ridiculous coffee requests.

 

Esca is waiting for the elevator doors to close when a shadow approaches and Marcus steps on just before the doors shut.

“Oh, Esca, hey,” Marcus says, moving to stand next to him.

“Good morning.”

His greeting is more formal than Marcus's, and Esca side-eyes his boss. Marcus looks flustered and a bit out of breath, his suitcase gripped tightly in one hand while his other hand moves to straighten the front of his suit. Even from that angle Esca can tell that Marcus's tie is twisted again and his collar is bulging on one side.

“Busy morning?” Esca asks, because he's never seen Marcus quite so disheveled.

Marcus laughs and glances over at Esca. “Is it noticeable?”

“Not overly,” Esca shrugs. “I suppose it's just my job to notice.”

“Power went out and my alarm didn't go off,” Marcus begins to explain. “Had a thirty second shower and no breakfast--”

“You rely on a regular alarm clock?”

“A regular..” Marcus gives him a look of confusion. “Doesn't everyone?”

“I use my phone, some people use their ipod or--”

“Same idea.”

“Except your clock likely doesn't have back-up battery power so you're fucked if the power goes out.”

Marcus grins at him. Actually fucking _grins_.

“What?”

“It's just surprising to hear you swear.”

Esca furrows his brow. “I curse all the time.”

“Not around me.”

“Well, you're my boss.”

“Oh,” Marcus says, sounding less amused than he had a moment before. “Good point.”

They're silent as the elevator travels up the last few floors, and by the time the elevator dings to indicate they've reached their destination, there's a nagging sense of guilt at the back of Esca's mind.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing Marcus sleeve and stopping him before he steps off the elevator.

Marcus turns to him, wide-eyed and a little wary. “What?”

“Meeting this morning,” Esca explains, reaching up to adjust Marcus's collar. Marcus cocks his head a little in surprise, and it takes only a second for Esca to flip the fabric of Marcus's tie and press his collar flat with the tips of his fingers. When he's done, Esca glances up at Marcus and offers him a smile. “Can't have your fucking tie crooked,” he says quietly.

“Thanks,” Marcus says, smiling back, and he actually sounds appreciative. He keeps talking as he turns to step off the elevator. “I can never.. Every single time..”

It takes him a second to realize Esca is still on the elevator. “What're you doing?”

Esca hits the button for the lobby. “No breakfast, right?” Esca calls as the doors begin to shut.

He hears Marcus awkwardly shouting 'thanks' as the door closes completely and the elevator begins its descent back down to the lobby.

Okay, so maybe this Marcus isn't bad either.

*

“Esca?”

The voice on the other end sounds familiar, but Esca remains polite and professional when he replies in the affirmative.

“Esca, it's Cottia!”

It's the first time they've spoken since the visit from corporate, and Esca is both pleased and a little wary to hear from her again. There's an irritating pang of jealousy in his gut when he remembers her elbowing Marcus and the two of them laughing as they left the office. Ridiculous because there's no way he could be jealous of her, or her relationship –or whatever it was– with Marcus, and he'd quite enjoyed their brief conversation before Marcus had whisked her away. With the takeover it was a relief to make a friendly connection with someone from corporate, and it was amusing to chat with someone who'd been through the pain of having Marcus Aquila for a boss.

Not that Marcus was entirely bad. Corporate week seemed to loosen him up a bit, and Esca's resolve to be a little friendlier around him seemed to make their working relationship a little less tense. The phone calls had returned a week after Esca fixed Marcus's tie in the elevator, though Marcus had mastered the art of information acquisition and polite small talk, and managed to cut it all down to a three minute conversation, greeting and goodbye included. Esca appreciated the effort and tried to ignore the occasional nagging desire to drag their conversations out longer. It wasn't that he was lonely, or that he was looking for a friendship with Marcus, but sometimes the guy could be interesting. Sometimes he wanted to know what Marcus was up to. How the move into this new condo had gone. Whether or not he'd had friends help him. Why he hadn't asked Esca to help.

Fucking ridiculous.

 

“Is Marcus free?”

“He's in the conference room, but I'll get him for you.”

“Thanks, yes,” Cottia says, “but don't run off just yet, I wanted to chat with you too.”

Esca can't help but smile. His first impression had been right, Cottia _is_ the friendly one.

“I'm going to be in town this weekend,” she continues. “Marcus says there's a new sushi place right by the office.”

“Yes..” Esca drags out the word as he tries to recall the name. “I've heard it's fantastic.”

“You should come with us!”

“Oh, I--” Esca hesitates, trying to think up an excuse. He's usually great at thinking on his feet, but for some reason he's stumped. “That's probably not a great idea,” he says, figuring honesty is probably best. He'd bet Cottia could see right through a lie anyway.

“Why not?” She sounds genuinely disappointed.

“I like to keep business as business.” He doesn't explain further, about not wanting to mix business with pleasure or stir up anymore fodder for the rumor mill. Especially the rumor mill that swirls around one Marcus Aquila.

“Ah,” she says, “of course, yes, very professional.” Her tone is teasing, and Esca can practically picture her giving a mock salute at the other end of the line. “Promise me one thing though.”

“What's that?”

“You'll make an exception one day so the two of us can go for drinks. We can call it a business meeting if it'll set your mind at ease, I'll even take notes.”

“That would be--”

“You'd better not say awful.”

“No, no,” Esca laughs, “that would be great. I'd enjoy that.”

“Wonderful,” she actually sounds thrilled, and Esca feels a bit bad for turning down her invitation for sushi. “Now, can I speak to your boss? He still hasn't told me what time he's meeting me at the station.”

“Yes, I'll get him.”

“Thanks Esca, and we're doing sushi at 7:30 if you change your mind.”

“Thanks,” Esca says, “I'll get Marcus.”

 

Marcus is hunched over a stack of papers when Esca knocks lightly against the door as he pushes it open. At the sound, Marcus raises his head and looks expectantly at Esca.

“Cottia is on line two.”

“Oh, damn it,” Marcus stands suddenly, bunching several papers together and rushing towards Esca and the door. “I'm supposed to pick her up tonight and I completely forgot. Does she sound mad?”

Esca shrugs. “She sounds quite happy. You're going for sushi at 7:30.”

Marcus shoots him an amused look. “Did she tell you that?”

“Yeah, she invited me.”

Marcus's movement seems to stutter as he passes Esca in the doorway, and then his speed picks up again as he heads for his office. When he reaches his desk, his hand pauses over the phone. “Are you going?” he asks casually, waiting for Esca's reply before taking the call.

“No,” Esca says, “Business and pleasure and all that.” He feels less awkward telling Marcus outright, because they've already had similar conversations and Marcus seems to know his stance on it. “Pick up the phone,” Esca reminds Marcus when his boss just stares at him blankly. “She's not mad, but she might be if you keep her waiting any longer.”

“Right.”

Marcus picks up the receiver, and his face brightens instantly when Cottia fires off what must be some sort of insult at the other end. “Maybe I'll just leave you at the station,” Marcus says, grinning.

Esca returns to his laptop and tries to ignore the conversation.

*

“I fucking told you, you should've left those accounts separate.” Esca seethes, barely able to keep himself from yelling into the phone.

 

Earlier in the day, after a spectacularly bad meeting with two clients, Esca had walked out in silence. It was the most unprofessional thing he'd done to date, but he was so frustrated with Marcus he figured walking out was better than berating him and risking the rest of the staff overhearing. He'd expected the call that night, and barely managed to bite back his fury when Marcus asked his opinion on resolving the situation.

 

“They're brothers!” Marcus all but yells back. “They both run companies that stem from the same parent company, I figured amalgamated meetings would streamline everything and save time.”

“They run separate companies because they can't stand each other!”

“Well how the hell was I supposed to know that?”

“You'd have known if you listened to me for once, instead of charging ahead like a stubborn bull and running every single meeting the way you want.” Esca holds the phone from his ear, knowing Marcus's reply will be infuriating, and takes a deep breath before pulling the phone back and continuing.

“--question my decisions–”

“Your decisions?” Esca interrupts. “Your fucking decisions nearly cost us two of our biggest clients! I might just be your lowly assistant whose opinion doesn't matter, but I'm not going to sit back and twiddle my fucking thumbs while you make shit decisions and destroy this company--”

“Esca--”

“I've worked here too fucking long and I'm good at my job. I'm not about to let Mister Hot Model Sleeps With Everyone Stubborn Fucking Arse come in here and ruin it--”

There's an uneasy laugh from Marcus's end. “What?”

“I know you're accustomed to everyone letting you do as you please, but I won't risk the integrity of the company just so you can stroke your own ego--”

“ _Esca_ ,” Marcus's voice is a bit harsher when he interrupts, “I'm still your boss. You need to--”

“My boss who is calling me at my own home, interrupting my fucking privacy! Don't tell me what I need to do. _You_ fucked this up, _you_ pissed off those two men, now fix it.”

Esca slams down the phone without waiting to hear Marcus's reply. If Marcus wants to fire him over it then fine. As it stands he's running the company into the ground anyway, so Esca will be out of a job one way or another.

His phone rings a moment later and Esca ignores it when he sees Marcus's number.

Marcus tries two more times before he seems to give up. Ten minutes go by, and Esca figures he's in the clear until the following morning. He throws his trousers in the press and flicks the coffee maker on, and is just about to settle in to watch a movie when his mobile buzzes. He doesn't expect it to be Marcus, because Marcus has never crossed the line to text messages. Apparently calls at home are alright, but texts are unprofessional. Esca fails to see the logic behind that one.

_[Toronto on Wednesday. You still going?]_

Corporate was sending Marcus to Toronto to scout out a few companies for a possible takeover, hoping it would be the catalyst for eventual international expansion. The minute Marcus received the memo he'd told Esca to make sure his own passport was up-to-date.

In his fury, Esca hadn't even remembered the business trip. But apparently it's still on the table, which means he isn't fired. 

Yet, anyway.

Esca fires off a text in reply.

_[Yes.]_

*

Esca sleeps through most of the flight. Business class is nearly deserted, but Esca stays in his seat, next to Marcus, figuring it'd be unprofessional to move off by himself.

He's less angry with Marcus now, having had a few days to cool off, but the air is still tense between them.

 

Marcus managed to mend fences with the two clients, at least enough to set Esca's mind at ease before they left, and he hadn't mentioned Esca's outburst. He could have easily taken disciplinary action – the phone call was easy to deny, but Esca wouldn't have been able to deny that he walked out after the meeting from hell. But Marcus said nothing. He didn't apologize, but he didn't ask Esca to apologize either. The matter was left as an unspoken thing between them.

 

Esca wakes long enough to eat a tiny container of mixed nuts. When his stomach is still growling a few minutes later, Esca flags down a flight attendant.

“Can I get another one of these?” he asks, holding the container in the air.

“I'm sorry, sir, it's one per passenger.”

Esca frowns as the attendant walks away. He's fucking starving.

“I know it's a short flight,” he says, more to himself than to Marcus, “but you'd think they could give us more than one. I mean, the company pays enough for these seats.”

Marcus just hums noncommittally. He's been reviewing papers since they took off, and Esca isn't sure if it's because Marcus wants to, or if it's just a means of avoiding awkward conversation between them.

Esca closes his eyes, aiming to sleep the rest of the way, hoping once they land he'll have time to eat before their meeting with the first company. He's nearly asleep again when he hears the sound of something being set on the tray above his knees. He peeks out of one eye, expecting to see a flight attendant hovering in the aisle, but the only thing in his line of vision is Marcus and his papers.

Esca opens both eyes and glances at his tray. A full cup of nuts sits next to his empty one.

“Thanks,” Esca says after a moment, because it's a nice gesture.

“No problem,” Marcus replies, not looking his way. “I wasn't going to eat them.”

Oh.

Esca eats the nuts and then manages to sleep for the rest of the flight, waking only when Marcus is elbowing him in the ribs and shoving papers into his carry-on.

*

“You're leading the meeting.”

Esca pauses in his straightening of Marcus's collar. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“We can't do that.”

“Why not?” Marcus shoves a stack of papers in Esca's hand. “They've never met us. They don't know you're my assistant.”

“I think they'll figure it out.”

“How would they? You know everything I know. I'll tell them you're my associate.”

“I likely know more than you know,” Esca mutters, trying to force the papers back into Marcus's hand.

“Yeah, you probably do,” Marcus concedes. “So lead the meeting.”

“Fucking hell, Marcus.”

Esca's not sure if it's Marcus's way of apologizing, or if it's a means of seeing what Esca really knows, or worse, if it's a way to make him fuck up and embarrass himself.

Whatever Marcus's motivation, Esca suddenly doesn't care. Whatever little game he's playing, Esca is determined to win.

“Fine,” he says, snatching the papers back from Marcus. “You have to follow my lead then, and _don't_ question me in front of them.”

“Fine.” Marcus looks amused, and Esca wants to punch the smirk right off his mouth.

The elevator dings and when the door opens Esca turns on his heel, leaving Marcus behind him. To his surprise, Marcus doesn't scramble, he steps off smoothly behind him, following a few steps behind Esca as they do the usual meet and greet and then head for the conference room.

*

“Told you,” Marcus says as he throws the rental car in reverse and peels out of the parking spot.

Esca reaches down to click his seatbelt in place. “Told me what? That I know more about our company than you? You're fucking right I do.”

Marcus laughs, ducking his head as they drive under an overpass – a reaction Esca realizes he finds somewhat endearing, like taking a puppy for a ride in a car.

“I meant, I told you that you could lead the meeting.”

“I didn't doubt that I could,” Esca retorts, clamping onto the inside of the door as Marcus rounds a corner a little too fast. “I just thought it was unprofessional to have your assistant lead a meeting.”

“Jesus, Esca, learn to take a compliment.”

Esca opens his mouth to respond, then thinks better of it and glances out the window. Buildings and cars and bright lights go whizzing by, and a few minutes pass before Esca speaks again. “Do you always drive this fast?” 

“I haven't driven much since I moved,” Marcus explains, “I miss it.”

Marcus glances over at him, and Esca can feel the car begin to slow as Marcus eases his foot off the gas pedal.

“Sorry, I'll slow down.”

They drive in silence until Marcus pulls up to a swank looking hotel and a valet approaches his window. Marcus steps out and hands the man the keys, and Esca can't help but be impressed by the way Marcus handles himself – as if he's done this a million times before.

“We should go for drinks tonight,” Marcus says once they're on the elevator.

“Why?”

“To celebrate your successful meeting, I don't know,” Marcus grins, “Does there have to be a reason?”

“We have another meeting at 9am.”

“So is that a no?”

“It's a no.”

Marcus sighs. “You're really going to make me go for drinks alone?”

“I'm not making you do anything,” Esca says as they step off the elevator.

“Fine.” Marcus hands him his key card. “I'm here,” he points to the door in front of him, then points to the door a few steps away, “and you're there.”

Esca takes the card from Marcus and slides it through the lock on his door. It opens with a beep, and Esca kicks off his shoes as he steps inside. “See you tomorrow then,” he calls to Marcus. “Bright and early, 8am.”

“Night,” he hears Marcus mumble.

 

Esca could've gone for drinks with Marcus – in his mind, drinks on a business trip don't really count as mixing business with pleasure – but he's still mildly irritated with Marcus, and unsure what Marcus's aim is in having him lead a meeting.

He spends the evening in his room. It has a king size bed, and a great view of the city, and Esca wastes time watching tv and reading and checking his email, and tries not to consider what his obnoxious boss might be doing next door.

Esca orders room service, and eats it while he watches some ridiculous reality show, and briefly entertains the idea of calling Marcus over to eat with him, but decides against it. Marcus's television had been rumbling low all evening, so Esca figures Marcus didn't go for drinks. He can still hear it when he climbs under his covers and shuts off the light, and a pang of guilt hits him when he remembers the nuts on the airplane. It _was_ a nice gesture, whether Marcus was planning to eat them or not.

The low rumble stops just before midnight, and Esca listens, trying to hear Marcus moving next door. He pictures Marcus climbing into bed, in a room that likely mirrors his own, and he wonders what his boss might be wearing – or not wearing.

Fucking hell.

Esca pushes the thought from his mind and focuses on the day ahead.

Breakfast at 8am. Meeting at 9am.

It'll probably be a long day, then another evening of cable TV and room service.

Maybe he'll go for that drink with Marcus after all.

*

The meetings on the following day go well, with Esca leading three out of four. It's a move Esca is sure will make its way back to corporate and get them in some sort of trouble, but he's feeling oddly pleased with himself when they climb into the rental car at the end of the day.

“You do realize corporate is going to go mad if they find out I led a meeting.”

“Four meetings.”

Esca glances over at Marcus, and there's a grin on the other man's face. Fucking hell.

“So is this a joke?”

Marcus's grin fades slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you fucking with me? Or is this punishment for walking out last week?”

“Christ, Esca, it's neither of those things,” Marcus glances over at him before turning his attention back to the road. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Because I can't imagine why you'd have your assistant lead meetings on a business trip and then sit there and grin about it.”

“I was grinning because you did a great job. I didn't realize being proud of one of my employees was a reason for suspicion.”

Esca watches him for a second, frowning. “Yeah, sorry. It's not.”

Marcus takes the apology with a simple nod.

“I suppose I've been a bit unfair,” Esca says, though it pains him to admit it. “Any chance that offer for a drink is still on the table?”

He can see the surprise register in Marcus's brow. “Sure, definitely. Any place in mind?”

“You're the one who knows your way around this city. You decide.”

 

They stop at the hotel first, both wanting to get out of the suits they've been in all day, and when Esca meets Marcus at the elevator an hour later he almost doesn't recognize him. Marcus looks good – freshly washed hair, dark jeans, gray t-shirt that seems to hug his biceps just right – 

“Have you decided on a place?” Esca asks, focusing his attention on the elevator call button.

“Yeah, there's a bar a couple blocks from here. I figure we can walk back if we have one too many.”

“I'm only planning to have one.” Esca hadn't even considered how many drinks he might have, but suddenly being drunk around Marcus doesn't seem like the best idea.

“Fine, if _I_ have one too many then.”

“Do they serve food?”

“Yup,” Marcus steps onto the elevator and Esca follows behind. “Pub style.”

“Good, I'm starving.”

\---

One drink turns into two, and two drinks turn into three, and before Esca knows it he's having an okay time. Marcus seems to be handling his alcohol a little better than Esca, but he can't seem to stop smiling, and he motions to the bartender to bring them another as he leans over to Esca and grins. “So, you're British?”

“Fucking hell,” Esca laughs, “I've worked for you for how many months?”

“Seven.”

“Seven, really?” Esca can't help his surprise. “I though it was five, tops.” 

Marcus takes a swig of his beer. “Nope. Seven months, one week, four days.”

“That's impressively precise. Do you know the minute and hour count too?”

Marcus grins. “I could figure it out if you'd like.”

“I'm good, thanks.”

\---

“So the Placidus thing,” Esca says, not entirely sure if he's slurring the smug bastard's name or not. “Thanks for that.”

Marcus had been staring at the top of his beer bottle and he glances up at Esca in surprise. “Don't mention it.”

“No, I should,” Esca stresses. “I could've dealt with it myself, but still, thanks.”

Marcus lets out a hearty laugh. “Believe me, I know you could've dealt with it.”

“What'd'ya mean by that?”

“You're just not afraid to defend yourself.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“That's what I'm talking about,” Marcus laughs again,” and I never said there was anything wrong with it.”

“Good. Though it's impossible with you. You never listen.”

Oh fuck.

Esca can feel himself starting to talk. He's a talker when he's drunk, saying things he shouldn't, telling people off, saying all the things he never says.

“You and your stupid coffee.”

Fortunately Marcus looks more amused than insulted. “My coffee?”

“I tried to tell you I don't make coffee, but _oh no_ , Mister Two Sugars needs his coffee every morning.”

Marcus pushes away his empty beer and grabs another full one. “Yeah, well, your coffee tastes awful every morning and I drink it anyway. So I'm pretty sure I'm the nice one here.”

Esca's jaw drops and he stares at Marcus who is smirking back at him.

“When.. the.. hell..” Esca says, dragging out each word, “did you get funny?”

“I'm funny.”

“You are _not_ funny.”

“Maybe not at work, but outside of work I am.” Marcus takes another swig, the smirk remaining on his face. “ If you weren't so uptight you'd know that.”

“I'm not uptight, I'm professional.”

“Oh yeah?” Marcus taps one of Esca's empty beer bottles. “Thought you were only going to have one.”

Esca glances down at his empties and frowns. “I should probably stop.”

“Nah, I kind of like you like this.” Marcus flags down the bartender and points at Esca. “I mean, stop if you want, but you're way past professionalism here.”

Esca looks up at Marcus and the guy winks. Fucking _winks_.

And fuck, his eyes look nice.

And his arms.

And the way he rests the bottle against his chest, fingers lightly clasped around the neck.

Damn.

Esca takes the full bottle, tilting it in Marcus's direction in a mock cheer, and then takes another drink.

\---

“So do you miss.. wherever you lived before you transferred?”

Esca should know, but he can't recall, and Marcus is still just grinning at him.

“Not really. I miss driving everyday, but that's about it.”

“Your friends?”

“I still see some of them.” Marcus is peeling at the label on his bottle. “And I had this, you know, bad break up or whatever. So that made it easier to leave.”

Esca nods. “With Cottia?”

Marcus looks up at him in surprise. “Cottia?” Marcus laughs. “No, ah, no. Definitely not Cottia.”

“Another assistant?”

Marcus's brow furrows in confusion. “What? No, just this guy. Someone I was dating.”

Esca nearly chokes on his beer.

“You were dating a guy?” He feels a bit bad for appearing so shocked, but he's drunk and completely taken aback. It hadn't really occurred to him that Marcus was anything but straight.

“Yeah, a guy,” Marcus laughs. “I date guys.”

“Oh,” Esca stammers, “uh, no, me too, I mean.. yeah, me too.”

Marcus just nods at him, and he's still smiling that maddening grin.

“But you probably already knew that.”

“I thought maybe,” Marcus replies, “but I hadn't seen you date _anyone_ so I wasn't sure.”

“Wondering about my dating life?” Esca leans in closer. “That's highly unprofessional.”

“I wasn't really aiming for professionalism tonight.”

Marcus winks again and Esca does choke this time, shooting a thin mist of beer across the table as he coughs and sputters.

“Jesus, Marcus.”

\---

Six beers is his limit. A little voice inside is yelling at him to stop at six, and Esca manages it, watching Marcus drink a seventh and then tilting his head towards the door.

“Should head back.”

Marcus nods. He pulls out his wallet, tossing down several bills. “You need help?” He's watching as Esca stands, and Esca waves him off.

“I might not be built like a brick wall, but I'm not a complete lightweight.”

Esca could probably use a bit of help, especially considering he's not familiar with the bar or the neighborhood, but he'd rather tough it out than admit he needs it. When they leave the bar, his attention is immediately drawn to the sky.

“That's a fucking huge tower,” Esca mumbles, staring in amazement.

“C'mon,” Marcus gestures to the left as they leave the bar. “Hotel's this way.”

“Lead the way, Mister Aquila.”

Marcus laughs. “Don't call me that, it's creepy.”

“It's your name.”

“My name is Marcus.”

“Fiiiine, lead the way, Marcus.”

They make it half a block before Esca stumbles on a sewer grate and Marcus catches his arm. Esca manages to stay upright, but falls against Marcus's side, splaying his hand across Marcus's stomach in the confusion. Marcus's hand wraps around his back, and it stays there, supporting him as they walk.

Esca should probably move his hand away from Marcus's stomach, but he doesn't. He can feel Marcus through his shirt, his belly soft and smooth over his strong stomach muscles, and Esca can feel the muscles moving as they walk and Marcus holds him upright.

His hand stays as they walk through the front doors, and as they're waiting for the elevator Esca moves his fingers slightly, rubbing Marcus's belly through his shirt. The arm around him grips tighter, and when the elevator dings, Marcus all but drags Esca inside, glancing around to make sure they're alone.

Then he's pushing Esca up against the back wall, leaning into him, head tilted down, and Esca's breath catches when Marcus's mouth is barely an inch from his own.

“This is probably not a good idea,” Esca says weakly, not meaning a word of it, and Marcus just nods in agreement and slides his knee between Esca's thighs.

“Probably not.”

Then Esca's arms are around Marcus's neck, pulling him closer, and the heavy weight of Marcus pins him against the wall.

The elevator dings, signaling their arrival, and Marcus moves away.

Esca lets out a hiss of frustration and suddenly Marcus is wrapping his arm around Esca's waist and pulling him into the hallway. Esca lets himself be pulled along, his body leaning against Marcus's – not because he really needs to, but it's a good excuse to stay close to him.

“Fucking hell, Marcus,” Esca slurs as they walk. He reaches for Marcus's stomach again, splaying his hand across the gray t-shirt, easing up the fabric and trailing the tips of his fingers over Marcus's belly. The skin there is soft and Esca traces the line of hair that travels from Marcus's navel and down, down, down, and Esca can feel his cock begin to ache as he slips two fingers into the waistband of Marcus's jeans.

They hit Marcus's door first, and Marcus reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and fumbling with it as he searches for his key card.

Esca leans in closer. “Marcus,” he whispers, planting his lips on the side of Marcus's mouth, wanting to kiss that maddening grin off his face.

“Hold on, hold on,” Marcus lets out a breathy laugh as he slides his card in the door. The lock beeps and flashes at them, and then Marcus is pushing open the door in a rush, and tugging Esca through it.

It slams shut behind them, and then Marcus is crowding Esca, backing him up against the door and leaning in, pressing his weight against him as Esca wraps an arm around Marcus's neck and pulls his mouth closer.

“That fucking grin,” Esca mutters just before Marcus's lips are on his, and the smile is wiped away as Marcus's tongue slides against his own.

Marcus's hands move over Esca's body – grabbing at his hips, wrapping around his back, then one hand slides down to grab Esca's ass through his jeans and pull him closer. Marcus thrusts his hips slowly, rutting, and Esca can feel the unmistakable hardness of Marcus's cock pressing into his thigh. Esca curses into Marcus's mouth, and Marcus laughs against him, hooking his fingers in Esca shirt and giving it a tug. Marcus pulls back just long enough to yank the fabric over Esca's head, and then his mouth is on Esca's again, his breath harsh against Esca's lips as he pins him against the door.

Marcus's thumbs over Esca's chest, teasing each nipple before moving down, clasping tight to Esca's hips, and Esca bites back a moan when Marcus's hand slides lower until he's palming Esca through his trousers. As Marcus rubs over his cock, Esca's head tilts back and hits the door with a soft thud. Marcus's fingers are strong, and Esca can't help but thrust his hips out to push his length into Marcus's hand.

“Esca,” he realizes Marcus is saying, and it takes a moment for Esca to realize Marcus is looking at him, questioning.

“Fuck, Marcus,” Esca finally breathes, shoving him away from the door and moving into the room, “C'mere.”

Marcus moves towards him, peeling off his shirt as he goes, and Esca reaches for Marcus's zipper. “Get these undone.”

Marcus's fingers fumble over Esca's, unzipping himself quickly, and then he's crowding Esca by the bed and Esca can't be bothered with politeness or taking things slowly.

“Come on,” Esca's saying, “come on,” and his hands move frantically between Marcus's open zipper and his own, not entirely sure which one of them he wants to undress first. Marcus makes the decision for him as he pushes down the sides of his jeans, the tight denim gathering around his thighs. Marcus's hard length juts out, thick and leaking, wanting, and Esca is fighting the urge to fall to his knees and wrap his lips around it when suddenly Marcus is kneeling in front of him, tugging down Esca's trousers and mouthing at Esca's cock through the cotton fabric of his briefs.

Esca nearly comes right there, with his boss, Marcus, half-naked and on his knees, tonguing over Esca's aching dick. His hands fall to Marcus's hair as Marcus eases the fabric down, wrapping his lips around Esca's length, and it's all Esca can do to remain upright as he thrusts into that warm, wet mouth.

They eventually end up on the bed, with Esca on his back and Marcus kneeling over him, his cock pressing into Esca's thigh until Esca tugs him down, pulling the full weight of Marcus onto himself. Then one of them is groaning, and one of them is saying _“fuck”_ and _”please”_ and _“yes”_ and it briefly occurs to Esca that all of the sounds might be coming from him. Then Marcus is rutting against him, sliding his cock against Esca's, and Esca can't think of anything else except the slick heat of Marcus's cock and the heavy weight of him, and Esca pushes his hips up, rubbing the underside of his cock against Marcus's stomach until he's coming with a moan, his come spilling between them. It's only another moment before Marcus is coming too, and Esca can feel the strength of him, his muscles contracting as he comes across Esca's stomach, the warm liquid spilling down Esca's hip and onto the bed.

Marcus is panting as he rolls off Esca, and they don't speak, both either too tired or too drunk to bother with conversation.

Esca brushes at his stomach in a feeble attempt to wipe away the come. Then he yawns, and slides up the bed, kicking the covers out of his way so he can slip underneath them.

“Meeting at ten,” he mumbles before he's out cold.

*

It's dark when Esca wakes, and for a second he assumes it's still nighttime, but a quick glance at the light peaking in under the curtains tells him it's daylight. He reaches up to flick on the bedside lamp, and his head feels like a lead weight when he moves. Esca turns slowly, trying to determine how sick he might be, and he glances around the room.

The room is familiar, bed, desk, television, bathroom door, closet, and he's relieved that he's in his own hotel room, at least.

Esca jogs his memory, trying to recall the night before, and remembers easing up a bit and taking that second drink, then a third, then a fourth. It's a bit foggy after that, but Marcus's grinning face is burned in his memory, and Esca smiles to himself as he turns over.

He freezes when he realizes there is someone else in bed with him, and his eyes travel over a wide expanse of back –

Marcus.

It all comes flooding back – the bar, the drinks, his hand on Marcus's stomach, and then their hands and mouths all over each other.

“Fuck.”

He doesn't mean to say it out loud, and he leans closer, trying to determine if Marcus is awake. When Marcus makes no motion to respond, Esca leans back against his pillow.

Damn it.

He's surprised to find he doesn't regret it, not entirely anyway, but frustration burns inside of him because he should have known better. The rumor mill had warned him about Marcus's charm, and his tendency to bed assistants, and here they are – first business trip together and Marcus is in his bed.

Or wait, maybe he's in Marcus's?

Esca glances around suspiciously, and realizes that yes, he's in Marcus's hotel room, in Marcus's bed.

And he's naked.

“Fuck.”

A muffled hum comes from Marcus's side of the bed, and Esca's insides twist as Marcus flips over to face him. Marcus yawns, squinting into the light, and he's still got that goofy grin on his face.

“Hey.”

“Good morning.”

“How're you feeling?”

“Sick as a bloody dog.”

Marcus's eyes widen and he shoots Esca a worried look. “Are you gonna puke?”

Esca grimaces. “Well I wasn't, but now that you've mentioned it..”

Marcus gets up quickly, walking across the room and grabbing the wastebasket and then returning to Esca's side of the bed and setting it on the floor.

“You need anything?”

“I – ” Esca is struck silent at the absurdity of the situation as he stares at his very naked boss who is standing by his bedside and asking if he needs anything. Esca can only shake his head. “I'm good.”

“I might order room service.” Marcus heads to the desk and picks up the in-room dining menu. “Think you'll want breakfast?”

Esca just stares. “How are you not ill right now?”

“Brick wall, remember?” Marcus grins, and Esca has no idea what he's referring to. “I rarely get hangovers.” He holds up the menu. “Food?”

“God, no.”

When Marcus turns away to call down for room service, Esca lets his eyes graze over the strong line of Marcus's back. His skin looks perfect in the soft light of the room, smooth and tanned, and Esca follows the curve of Marcus's back down until it reaches the slope of his ass, and Esca briefly regrets not exploring that further last night.

But then pain hits him again, radiating through his head, and he lets out an undignified groan as he turns over and tries to go back to sleep. Marcus speaks low into the receiver, his voice growing quieter and quieter as Esca drifts off.

\---

“ _Esca_.” The whispered voice is like nails on a chalkboard, and Esca flails his hand in the direction of the sound.

“Go away.”

There's quiet laughter, and Esca realizes it's Marcus.

“I'm heading to the meeting. I'll be back later.”

Esca forces his eyes open. Marcus is fully-dressed and leaning over him, looking amused.

“What time is it?”

“Nine. I have to go.”

“Why didn't you wake me?” Esca moves to sit up, but Marcus pushes him back down.

“You're sick. Stay here.”

“I'm on a fucking business trip Marcus, I can't just stay in.”

“Yeah, good point. Wouldn't want your boss to give you shit for it,” Marcus nods. “Oh, wait.”

“Marcus – ”

“Stay here,” Marcus says firmly. “Get better. I can handle the meetings.”

“Do you have the proper numbers? And the portfolios?”

“Of course I have them,” Marcus laughs. “I _do_ know how to lead a meeting, Esca.”

Esca sighs reluctantly. “Fine. C'mere though,” he reaches up to untwist Marcus's tie and smooth his hand over his collar, muttering, “your fucking tie, Marcus.”

Marcus grins, tilting his jaw as Esca fiddles with his collar. “I think I should be back by four, but it could be later. Feel free to stay here if you want.”

“Thanks,” Esca yawns, “but I'll head to my room once I'm actually awake.”

“Okay.” Marcus's smile seems to fade a little, but Esca doesn't have time to analyze it because Marcus is pulling away, grabbing his briefcase and heading for the door. “Get better.”

Esca watches him go. With his dark suit perfectly fitted to his body, his strong fingers fumbling at his pocket as he checks to make sure he's got the rental keys, and his tie now lying flat, he looks flawless.

Marcus shoots Esca a ridiculous smile, and waves a quick goodbye as he pulls the door shut behind him.

Esca lets out a huff of frustration and flops down against his pillow.

Damn. Damn damn damn.

*

It's nearly noon by the time Esca feels awake enough to venture back to his room.

The pounding in his head has eased enough that he can stand without wincing in pain, and he's looking forward to taking  
a shower and ordering room service when he opens his wallet and realizes he's missing his key card. There's a moment of relief that he hadn't left Marcus's room yet, but then his brain zeros in on the frustrating fact that he's locked out of his room and Esca's left cursing his own carelessness.

He searches his wallet, his pockets, the bed, the desk, any place it could possibly be hidden. He even toes at Marcus's open suitcase, not wanting to snoop, but trying to determine if it might have fallen nearby.

Concluding that it's lost, Esca calls down to the lobby to request a new one.

_“What can we do for you Mister Aquila?”_

Esca rolls his eyes, then proceeds to have a very curt but even-tempered conversation with the front desk staff as he tries to explain that Mister Aquila is actually his boss, and he needs a key to the room next door. The conversation gets him no where, and Esca's head is throbbing again by the time he hangs up. He leans back against the pillows, absentmindedly scratching his hand across his stomach. He's considering going down to the lobby to show his identification when his fingers catch on something and he realizes Marcus's come is still on him, dried to the light hairs across his navel, and streaking down his hip. Esca glances around looking for his clothes, and realizes they're strewn across Marcus's room.

Making up his mind to shower before heading to the lobby, Esca rests his pounding head against the pillows and ends up sleeping for another hour.

Feeling better when he wakes a second time, Esca decides to order room service before taking a quick shower. He figures he can shower, eat, and then head down to the lobby to get a new card and be back in his room before Marcus returns.

The hot water feels good, and Esca scratches his hand over his stomach, washing away the remnants of the night before. There are a few bottles on the side of the tub, and Esca examines one – shampoo, some brand Esca's never heard of. The other one is conditioner, and the smaller one is body wash. Esca flicks the lid on the body wash and gives it a quick sniff.

It smells like Marcus. Esca can't identify the scent, but it's good and fresh, and it's the same thing he smells every morning when Marcus arrives and breezes past his desk.

Esca's cock twitches beneath the hot water and he curses to himself. Stupid Marcus and his stupidly nice smelling self. If Esca hadn't gotten drunk enough to lose his key card he'd be in his own shower right now, using his own boring soap, not getting turned on by stupid bloody body wash.

He pours the liquid in his hand, rubbing it over himself quickly and trying to wash it away before the scent permeates the small space.

He's not sure how long he's in the shower, but he's just toweling off when he hears a rustling sound from the direction of the door.

“One sec!” he shouts, assuming it's his room service order. He wraps a towel around his hips and jogs to the door only to find it opening on its own just as he reaches for the handle.

Esca can't help the low curse that escapes him when he realizes Marcus is standing on the other side.

“Oh hey,” Marcus says, his hand on the doorknob, and his eyebrows halfway up his forehead in surprise. “I didn't think you'd still be here.”

“I, uh, wasn't –” Esca stammers, “I wasn't going to be. You're back early.”

“Second meeting was quick.” Marcus's eyes fall to Esca's chest, then to the white towel wrapped around his waist, and Esca grips it tightly so it won't slip off.

Fuck.

Marcus grins. “Can I come in?”

FUCK.

“Yes, sorry.” Esca takes a step back, allowing Marcus into the room. “I meant to be gone, but I lost my key card.”

Marcus tosses his briefcase on the floor near the desk. “Did you get a new one?”

“No,” Esca says sheepishly. “They wouldn't give me one.”

“Why?”

“I called. It was a misunderstanding. I was planning to go down and get one before you got back.” Esca shifts sideways, bending slightly as he tries to grab his trousers from the floor without flashing Marcus in the process.

“Well, I'm glad you're still here.” Marcus meets his gaze, looking quite pleased with the situation.

Esca turns away, trying to change the subject. “Did the meetings go well?”

“They were fine. Probably would've been better if you'd been there.”

“Why's that?”

“You're better at rhyming off facts and figures. I'm the schmoozer, but you're the guy they look to for information.”

“I'm sure you were fine.” Esca glances back, taking a look at Marcus's neck. “Collar's down, at least.”

Marcus laughs as he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes a seat in the desk chair. “Stayed down all day,” he says, running his fingers along the fabric of his collar, and Esca watches as they move to loosen his tie and pop the top button of his shirt. Marcus looks relaxed and gorgeous, and Esca has the sudden urge to slip his fingers around the tie and drag Marcus over to the bed.

“Do you want to stay?” Marcus asks, as if he's reading Esca's mind.

“No,” Esca says, trying to mask his regret with professionalism. “I shouldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Considering you're my boss, it's likely not the best idea for either of us.”

“Corporate has no rules against it.”

“I have my own rules,” Esca says quickly, his fingers still clinging to the towel as he locates his shirt and tosses it on the bed. “I shouldn't have done this. I'd been warned about you, that first day –”

“Warned?”

“Yeah, warned. I heard you were gorgeous, and god, you are, I can't deny that. But I'm not just another assistant for you to mess around with.”

“What are you talking about?” To his credit, Marcus appears utterly confused. “Who warned you?”

“Everyone,” Esca pauses, realizing how dubious his sources sound. “There were rumors.”

“Rumors about what?”

“About you. Silly things, like you slept with your assistants.”

“And you believed them?”

“I don't know!” Esca flails one hand in frustration while his other hand continues to grip the towel around his waist. “I did at the time, I guess. New hot boss comes in acting like a big show off, what was I supposed to think?”

“What were you supposed to think? You were supposed to give me a chance, at least, instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“Well, you made that a bit difficult. You're so goddamn stubborn and you made me get your stupid coffee even after I said I didn't make coffee. I thought you were just full of yourself, expecting me to jump whenever you said jump.”

“And you were so much better? Knowing everything and trying to tell me what to do? You're an intimidating little fucker, Esca. I made you get my coffee to try to knock you down a peg or two.”

“Well it didn't work.”

“I can see that.” Marcus stares at him, looking defeated, before heading for the door. “I'll leave so you can get your clothes on.”

“Marcus, you don't have to.”

“It's fine.” Marcus tucks his wallet in his pocket. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

*

When Marcus returns ten minutes later, Esca is fully dressed and seated on the edge of the bed.

Marcus walks in –tie still loose and top button still undone– and flashes a new entry card at Esca.

“They gave it to you?”

“Of course they gave it to me,” Marcus says, slapping the card on the desk and taking a seat in the chair again. 

Of course they did, Esca sighs inwardly. Marcus checked them in, after all. He probably just walked down there all suave and sure of himself and they likely handed it over without question. His ability to charm people and get what he wants frustrates the hell out of Esca. It's also one of things that draws him to Marcus.

He's quietly fuming over it when Marcus speaks again.

“I've had four assistants since I started working for this company. Two guys, two girls.” Marcus pauses, waiting for Esca to meet his eye. “And I've only messed around with one of them.”

Marcus tilts his head, giving Esca a meaningful stare, but Esca can only stare back blankly as he waits for Marcus to continue.

“I'm talking about you.”

Oh.

“Well, I'd heard--” Esca begins, and he's immediately cut off by Marcus.

“I know what you heard. I just don't understand why you believed it.”

“I didn't know you then.”

“But you know me now.”

Marcus has a point, and Esca nods slowly. “I suppose I do.”

“And?”

“ _And_ ,” Esca stresses, “you're fucking hard to read, Marcus. Around other people you're charming as hell, but around me? Half the time you're abrasive, and half the time you act like I'm not even worth talking to.”

“I used to try to talk to you, when I'd call – ” Marcus trails off.

“I realize that now,” Esca admits.

“You drove me crazy,” Marcus continues. “You came so highly recommended, and you'd come to work in your perfect suits and perfect vests, all professional and put together, never messing up.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“At first it was. It drove me fucking nuts. You threw me off, always questioning the things I did. But then I started to like it. I liked that you called me on my shit and made me second guess the decisions I was making in the company.”

“Yet, you still acted like an ass the majority of the time.”

“What about last night?”

“I don't know. Last night was different, but I thought it was the alcohol.”

“It was different because we weren't at work. I could just be myself.”

“So what happens if we don't take this further? If I go back to my room, what will happen on Monday when we're back at work?”

“Well, it'll probably be awkward,” Marcus sighs. He picks up the key card and offers it to Esca, his arm outstretched. “But I'm not going to fire you or make your life hell, if that's what you're asking. Jesus, Esca, I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not that guy.”

Despite the confidence he always carries, a look of defeat remains on Marcus's face.

Esca stands and walks over to him, taking the card and placing it back on the desk before reaching out to run his fingers through Marcus's hair.

“Cottia told me you were a good guy.”

A slight smile moves over Marcus's face as he looks up. “When did she say that?”

“Corporate week.”

“And what do you think?”

Esca slides his fingers down Marcus's tie and gives it a gentle tug. “I think I've been unfair.”

It takes only a moment for him to push Marcus back, to kneel down between his legs and mouth at the soft bulge in his trousers.

“I'd like to make that up to you.”

Marcus's head falls back, his eyes already heavy-lidded.

“You don't have to,” he mutters, fingers fumbling against Esca's forehead in a weak effort to push him away.

“I want to,” Esca says, swatting at his hand.

He unbuckles Marcus's trousers and gives them a gentle tug, encouraging Marcus to lift his hips. Marcus raises up just enough for Esca to pull the fabric down, bunching it around his thighs, and then Esca is spread over him, burying his face in Marcus's groin. He presses his nose into Marcus's briefs, taking in the scent of him.

“I sometimes wondered,” Esca says, nudging his face against Marcus's thigh and down into the slight crevice between his balls and his leg, “what you smelled like.”

Marcus lifts a hand to touch him, carding his fingers through Esca's hair.

“In your suit,” Esca continues, licking along the distinct line of Marcus's cock through the fabric. “I'd think about it sometimes. How good you probably smelled down here.”

Marcus groans above him, and Esca inhales deeply, taking in the scent of his arousal, tonguing over the head of Marcus's cock. Precum has already leaked through the fabric, and Esca licks over it, sucking at the cotton until he's the one who can't wait any longer and he wants the full length of Marcus in his mouth. He pulls the fabric aside, trying to pull Marcus out through the side of his briefs, and Marcus groans again when his cock hits the cool air of the room and then the warm wet heat of Esca's mouth.

His own cock is hard in his trousers as he sucks off Marcus, listening to each moan escape Marcus's mouth as Esca nearly chokes on the thickness of him, and Esca briefly regrets getting dressed earlier. It'd be so much easier if he were still in a towel.

“Marcus,” he say, pulling away for a moment. “You want to fuck me?”

“Oh god,” Marcus groans, his cock jerking in Esca's hand. “Yes.”

Esca moves out of the way, letting Marcus stand. Marcus tugs his trousers up enough to walk, then cuts across the room to retrieve a condom and some lube from his suitcase.

“I always – ” Marcus says, as if feeling the need to explain their presence on a business trip. “Just in case.”

“Shut up,” Esca laughs, taking the condom from Marcus and pushing him back in the chair. “I get it. I've got two in my wallet.”

Esca quickly undresses, gesturing to Marcus, “get your trousers off,” and Marcus has enough time to pull them off and unbutton his shirt before Esca is leaning forward to slide the condom over Marcus, his own cock jutting out as he moves. Marcus reaches for him, taking Esca in hand and giving him a few long smooth strokes until Esca is pushing his hand off, wanting to climb on Marcus's lap before his impatient cock blows itself over Marcus's fingers.

Esca slicks himself, climbing on Marcus's lap, placing his knees on either side of him. Marcus's hands are tight on Esca's hips, as if to keep himself from shaking as he slides into him, and Esca curls his fingers around Marcus's tie, giving it a tug each time Marcus thrusts up. Marcus tilts his head up, his face open and pleading, and Esca leans down to kiss him, unable to deny him anything. He curls his tongue against Marcus's, mimicking their pace as Marcus slams up into him, and Esca pushes down against him, meeting every thrust with a twist of his hips.

“God,” Marcus is sighing, “oh fuck, Esca, I'm gonna come.”

At the admission, Esca reaches for his own cock, having ignored it until that point, fearful he would shoot too soon. He strokes himself, pushing down against Marcus, spilling encouraging words from his mouth – filthy things about Marcus's cock and Esca's own body. His face burns as he says them, unable to stop himself, and it only spurns Marcus on as he watches Esca move and then he stills, holding Esca to him. Marcus gives a few slow thrusts as he comes, his body jerking beneath Esca.

Esca's coming a moment later, sliding slowly over Marcus's cock, staring down at his contented face.

“Feels good,” Esca sighs as he comes over his hand and onto Marcus's stomach.

Marcus watches him, wide-eyed, and waits for Esca to finish before he leans up and captures his mouth in a kiss.

*

They're half-dressed when room service knocks at the door.

Marcus watches as the cart is wheeled in, waiting until the waiter leaves before he turns to Esca with a questioning look.

“I thought you'd be back later,” Esca says with a laugh. “But we can share.”

“When did you order that?”

Esca shrugs. “Before my shower.”

“Well we're not paying for it, it's probably cold.”

“Marcus, it's fine.” Esca picks up the tray and sets it on the bed. “Come here.”

He throws himself down on his stomach before he lifts the lid off each plate, examining the contents as Marcus lies down beside him.

“You want to go for a drink tonight?” Marcus asks, taking the fork Esca hands him.

“ _No. Absolutely not._ You saw what happened last night. If we went out tonight we'd probably wake up married.”

Marcus stares at him, his mouth gaping.

“That's a joke,” Esca explains, “Canada, remember?”

“Ohh.” Marcus nods, turning away. “I thought you meant, you know, you wanted – ”

“No no no,” Esca says quickly, spooning some food onto his plate.

“Oh. Good.”

“Yeah.”

“But, you know,” Marcus mumbles, not meeting Esca's eye as he spoons food onto his own plate. “I'd be okay with that. Like, someday, or whatever.”

“Marcus,” Esca can't help the smirk on his mouth, “did you just ask me to marry you?”

“ _No_.” Marcus says emphatically.

“Because this is like, what, our second date?”

“That's not what I meant,” Marcus explains, a smirk growing on his own face. “I was just putting it out there, because _that's_ the kind of guy I am.”

Esca watches him for a moment, amused by Marcus's awkwardness.

“Well, good,” Esca says slowly. “Because I'd probably be okay with that too.”

Marcus turns to him, grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like, someday, or whatever.”

*

They spend the evening in Marcus's room, talking, laughing, ordering more room service and watching corny shows on television.

“Hey, I heard another rumor about you,” Esca says when he's lying on his back, his belly full of nachos and beer – having managed to stop at his new limit of two.

He can sense Marcus begin to tense next to him. “What was it?”

“Relax, it's nothing big.”

“What though?'

“They said you used to be a model.”

Marcus says nothing, but the redness creeping over his face gives Esca all the answers he needs.

“Oh my god, it's true, isn't it?”

“Esca.”

“What did you model?”

Marcus shakes his head, so Esca climbs astride him.

“Marcus, tell me,” he says, holding Marcus down by his wrists.

“Fine,” Marcus laughs. “Underwear.”

“Are you serious?”

“What do you think?”

Esca bursts out laughing. “Can I see any?”

“It was just catalog stuff. Probably impossible to find now.”

“That's disappointing.”

“I guess.”

Esca smiles down at Marcus and gives a slow roll of his hips. “You'll just have to give me a private show.”

“No way,” Marcus groans against the movement, rutting his hips up lightly. 

“Someday?” Esca asks with another roll of his hips.

“Okay,” Marcus nods, “someday.”


End file.
